Friday, September 4, 2009


I hate missing a storm. I lost out on a good one last winter. My mom called me to tell me she was huddled in her room, listening to the terrifying wind and the sounds of thunder. I had left just the day before.

Just this week, as I approached the hot desert town, I could see lightning flashes in the distance, and naturally I was hoping I'd be greeted by some "bad" weather when I arrived. It didn't happen. The storm was much farther away than it appeared, and I faced the doldrums of my rainless existence once again.

I love a good rain, with or without thunder and lightning. There is nothing better than lying in bed, maybe with the window partly open, and listening to the rain come down outside. What kind of roof you have over your head can change the sound of those falling drops. Have you ever slept under a tin roof when the rain was pouring down? I lived in a mobile home once where one of the "bedrooms" had only a thin piece of metal between the occupant and the sky. It was wonderful when it rained, though.

I love that sound so much that I sometimes choose to listen to it even when clear skies prevail. I have several rain recordings, one with haunting trains in the background, but of course they can't replace the real thing. Years ago I remember Dad opening the window and setting a cassette tape recorder on the sill, capturing the rain, and wishing I could capture it for real.

The Rain Choir

Video via Phils Phun

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